


Without You

by Milarca



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst and Feels, Biting, Come Swallowing, Cuddling, Discussions about the End of the World, Disgusting Amounts of Affection, Dom!Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Pet Names, Possessiveness, Sub!Aziraphale, in the Bentley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 23:13:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19094971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milarca/pseuds/Milarca
Summary: Crowley attempts to admit some feelings he has about Aziraphale. Of course Aziraphale already knows what he feels—or does he?





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted them to kiss…

**\- Some time before the Apocalypse -**

  


“There we go,” Aziraphale says as he gets into Crowley’s Bentley, tossing the plant mister in the back. “Sorry about that, I—”

Crowley is looking at him, the barest hint of a smile on his face, and Aziraphale quite perfectly forgets what he was about to say. It’s morning and they’re parked in the plaza outside Crowley’s penthouse flat, where they had spent a lovely night together. Aziraphale had just gone back to get something—the plant mister, for some purpose; he isn’t sure presently—and now Crowley is looking at him like _that_ and he can’t seem to remember—

“Crowley, what is it? Did I—”

“It’s nothing, angel,” Crowley says, his lips half-quirking as he turns to the road and gets the car into gear. “And don’t worry about it. Whatever you were sorry for.” 

“Ah—” The car slides into the road and starts up at a fast clip through the city, making Aziraphale grab onto the armrest. “I was just sorry for the delay. I found _several_ plant misters and I wasn’t sure which it was.”

Crowley snorts, chuckling and showing sharp teeth. “It’s alright. I have a few. The plants keep grabbing them and absconding with them, the greedy devils, so I have to have extra around.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says with a small, light laugh, imagining the plants doing exactly that. They are very large and… robust, and he thought he saw a trove of _something_ hidden away in a leaf cluster… 

“I was just watching you,” Crowley says after a moment, expression unwavering. His reptilian eyes blink under his dark glasses, his focus superficially on the road. 

Aziraphale’s eyebrows go up, a small, pleased smile on his pink lips. “Watching me, oh,” he says, and his gaze floats over Crowley’s face to his sprawled, trim form in a silky suit jacket. He knows their human forms are simply that, but living amongst beings for several millennia has taken its toll. He knows it’s sinful, but, well, there are a few pleasures in existence that he doesn’t mind indulging in. Sometimes. “…And what did you see?” he asks after a few beats, laughing softly, knowing Crowley could say any number of things, or brush it off entirely. 

“I saw… an angel. Hurrying back to _me_ ,” he says, his lips teasing a smile again. Aziraphale can’t help that his own smile gets a little wider. 

“Well, yes, I know we have places to be. I had made us late.”

“Not at all,” Crowley says, and Aziraphale is one to believe him taking into account their current velocity—eighty-miles per hour, which isn’t… too fast. It’s not slow, either. 

Aziraphale hums, his hands in his lap. _Back to me…_

“Your aura was… pleased,” Crowley says. “Bright, sweet, clean.” He clears his throat as Aziraphale looks at him with curiously wide, amazed eyes. His mouth is open to speak but nothing comes out. “I… like when you’re near me,” Crowley continues. “You know that.”

Aziraphale’s laugh is light and tinkly, but there’s a warmth in his voice that seems to curl around Crowley like a scarf in winter, and keep him warm against the cold of the world. Aziraphale shifts over to be closer to him and Crowley hisses and pulls away, showing teeth in surprise, but Aziraphale just looks at him for a second before curling in again, putting his head on Crowley’s shoulder and nuzzling into his neck. 

Crowley’s hiss dissipates into nothing and he feels his fire extinguish as if the angel on him were a light rain shower. The surface fire, anyway. It feels like the flames inside him are licking at his insides…

“Yes, I know,” Aziraphale says, sighing, and Crowley shivers, never wanting the angel to leave his side. 

“I… I like when you _want_ to be close to me,” the demon continues, gripping the steering wheel tighter, going a bit faster as they navigate the streets, just missing a few people walking too close to the road. 

Looking at him curiously, Aziraphale says, “I always _want_ to be close to you, Crowley,” and Crowley lets out a shivery breath. 

“You…” He swallows and turns to the angel, wanting to reach out and hold him. 

Aziraphale smiles, eyebrows drawn, and leans in, but doesn’t kiss him. Their noses brush as Aziraphale breathes on him, and Crowley smells tea and mint and… atmosphere. Aziraphale makes a small noise but places a kiss to Crowley’s cheek, rubbing his cheek against his.

Crowley growls. “You can’t just do that to me, angel, I—” 

Aziraphale hums, threatening more nuzzling, and Crowley exhales tightly and looks back to the road. 

“Let me finish. It just… it feels good when you come to the house, and this car, and are… here, with me. Because I’m so… well, I’m a demon. My soul is…”

Aziraphale shifts beside him and draws back, his breath hitching. “Your soul is _perfect_ , Crowley,” he says, and his hand slips to Crowley’s waist, holding lightly there. Crowley’s lip curls and he tilts his head, unconvinced. His fingers shift on the wheel again, his eyes flicking from the road to Aziraphale. 

“My soul is dark and corrupted—”

“ _No—_ ”

“ _Yes,_ dammit! _”_ Crowley snarls, and Aziraphale just makes a small noise and curls closer, like if he wraps around Crowley enough he can possibly soak up all the bad energy the demon radiates and expel it into the universe. He’s an angel, after all. It’s not too difficult for him to do that. “…But I think, well, if I can just…”

Aziraphale watches him, barely daring to breathe. “…Yes?” he asks.

“If I can just… keep _you_ safe, then perhaps I did something right. Maybe that’ll be enough, when—”

Aziraphale feels a swelling in his heart so pleasant but also almost painful that he has a hard time not disappearing in a puff of atmospheric particles, vibrating at such energy as to lose their earthly form. 

“ _Shhh_ ,” Aziraphale says, one arm wrapping around Crowley’s midsection, his lips nearly against the skin of his throat. Crowley’s Adam’s apple bobs nervously and Aziraphale shivers. He closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in Crowley’s scent. It’s zingy, like high altitude, but also a little musky as earth is, or the underground of Hell… There’s the leather from the car, and the fresh scent from his flat, and a subtle sweetness coming from his skin. “You do so much good…”

“I _don’t_ —”

“You do to _me_ ,” Aziraphale says, settling in. He sighs and presses a kiss to Crowley’s neck. 

Crowley makes a high-pitched noise he abruptly cuts off. “ _Angel…_ ” he says warningly. He is driving, after all… though the only reason he cares about that is because if they crash their little moment here will have been ruined. His insides ache hearing Aziraphale say what he had. 

But Aziraphale just leans in close again and fairly starts purring, a heavenly vibration that sets Crowley’s ions tingling. “Pull over,” Aziraphale says, and Crowley does, almost immediately. Thankfully they’re out of the city center and the small park they’re next to is fairly quiet, though Crowley has a feeling Aziraphale would do this in Trafalgar _bloody_ Square for all he knows. 

When they’re parked, Aziraphale huffs softly, draping the car in a fuzzy shield of normality, bouncing the humans’ attention away from them. 

“I’m… with you rather a lot. I can… take care of myself of course—”

“Of course you can, angel,” Crowley says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“But you are… clear and radiant and—well. You watch over me, hm? You’re… _foiling my angelic wiles_ …” He smiles and Crowley feels himself relax. Yes. That’s what he’s doing. “So. It’s alright. It’s _fine_.”

Crowley turns and looks at him. He takes his glasses off and Aziraphale seems to brighten when he can see Crowley’s eyes better. His hand lifts and cradles Crowley’s neck, stroking his jaw. 

“I know it’s fine,” Crowley says, and his hand comes down from the steering wheel to Aziraphale’s thigh. He just wants to touch him. “I just… I need you to be with me,” he says carefully, quietly, his eyes darting around. Aziraphale’s eyebrows knit even more. 

“I _am_ with you, always,” he says, petting Crowley’s cheek with his thumb. Crowley squeezes his thigh. 

“Yes, I know, angel,” he says. “I just… that’s why I watch you. I lo—” 

He cuts himself off, and Aziraphale’s eyes get very wide and soft, then and it’s nearly more than Crowley can bear. He growls softly. 

“I just need to know you’re alright,” he says. “Always. Even in the short walk from the flat to the car. I was watching you, even when I couldn’t see you in my flat. I can’t help it, I—”

Nearly bursting with something he isn’t sure he could name if he tried, Aziraphale takes Crowley’s head in one firm, ethereal grip, and kisses him. The kiss is possessive and hungry—very un-angel-like—and tastes like lavender and cinnamon. Crowley shudders and kisses back hotly, and his hand moves to Aziraphale’s waistcoat before he miracles the buttons open on the garment enough to slip in and feel Aziraphale’s warm human body. 

“Crowley!” Aziraphale cries, a light chastising smile on his face. 

“Oh, Lord, forgive me, for I have sinned,” Crowley faux-prays, lips chasing the angel’s, a downright wicked grin on his face. His teeth are sharp and white and he growls softly, leaning in and finishing the kiss. It’s possessive too, and this time his hands, like claws, get around Aziraphale and hold him tight. Aziraphale whimpers and his aura sparks and ripples as the angel in him startles at being manhandled by a demon, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he melts against Crowley, utterly trusting him. 

It’s not possible that his angelic soul is weaker than Crowley’s—in fact the opposite is true—and even if a rogue demon got their hands on him, they wouldn’t be able to easily kill him. Not without a vicious, deadly fight, anyway. 

But _this_ demon would never hurt him. Would never lay hands on him in ways he didn’t want, would never think of directing any energy towards him that wasn’t wanted or reciprocated. Crowley might be a teeth-snapping demon with claws that dig through the fabric of Aziraphale’s human clothes to scratch the soft skin underneath, but the only thing in his heart… is _love_. 

Love of a… physical, and _animal_ nature, but also of a pure and heavenly one. That part Aziraphale has to concentrate to see but no matter what the demon says, it’s there. Crowley is a fallen _angel_ , after all. An angel whose soul fairly crackles with desire to be one with Aziraphale’s. And so they fit together nearly perfectly, their souls quaking and shimmering in the cracks and crevices of the other. 

Crowley makes a small noise that could be described as a whimper, as he takes his pleasure. His hands support Aziraphale, and he manages to maneuver the angel to lie flat on his back on the seat. Crowley grins and rumbles deep in his chest, humming as he kisses the angel and bares his teeth, taking Aziraphale’s lip in between them and tugging lightly, then moving to his jaw and nipping, kissing and biting in equal measure until Aziraphale is a squirming, shuddery, delighted mess. 

“Crowley, what are you…” He giggles softly and hums, absolutely loving having Crowley’s weight on top of him, in his car. He knows it’s just a twisted frame of metal, but it feels safe, with Crowley here anyway. 

“I’m taking what’s _mine,_ ” Crowley growls viciously, right before kissing Aziraphale’s neck and biting the juncture _hard._

Aziraphale yelps and quakes. By the nature of their bodies being eternal cases almost for their souls, physical damage can be quickly healed, but not necessarily right away. If Aziraphale wanted to _keep_ the bite marks for a little while, well, nobody would be the wiser. He shivers as a slow trickle of warmth seeps into him at the claiming gesture. He can feel Crowley’s sharp teeth in him, can feel the skin nearly break. It only hurts a little, as much as he wants it to. 

“Because you _are. mine,_ angel,” Crowley growls.

It’s all very much for show… but is it, really? 

Crowley would deny he was being serious, and Aziraphale could never acknowledge such possession… but it’s times like these when he feels utterly drawn to the other being… that he isn’t sure Crowley is very off the mark. 

“Y-yours— _yours_ ,” Aziraphale squeaks, humming as Crowley moves on, kissing up his jaw and back to his face, his lips. Crowley has such a love-drunk look on his face—it’s almost melancholy, or desperate—that Aziraphale pauses. He wets his lips, but then Crowley kisses him again, and this time it’s tender and warm, his eyes closed. Aziraphale sighs, kissing back with similarly closed eyes. 

“You’re gorgeous, angel,” Crowley says between kisses. “How could I ever live without you?”

Aziraphale breathes a laugh, so surprised he’s flippant. “Quite easily, I imagine.”

“ _No_ ,” Crowley growls, diving in to kiss under Aziraphale’s warm jaw and nibble there. “No I couldn’t,” he says. 

“Well… I imagine we have quite a while before anything like that happens—”

“It wouldn’t,” Crowley says, and Aziraphale wonders how Crowley can be so sure they would never be separated by soul death. 

“Well. You have me _now_ , hm?” he says, and Crowley hums. 

“Yes I _do_ ,” he says, and just then one of his hands snakes down to the angel’s trousers and undoes the button. Aziraphale squeaks and shifts, eyebrows drawing. 

“Crowley— _here_?” he asks, only a little nervous that his enchantment would somehow wear off and they’d be arrested for public indecency…

“Yes, _here_ , angel,” Crowley insists without pausing or room for argument, and his other hand grabs Aziraphale’s wrist and brings it up above his head. 

“Oh, oh dear, I’m not sure—”

“ _Shhhh_ ,” Crowley hushes into his ear as Aziraphale had before, kissing it and tilting his head to nibble the lobe placatingly. 

Aziraphale giggles and shivers, utterly complacent as Crowley gets his other wrist up too and whisks the scarf from around his neck to wrap around the angel’s wrists. He ties it snug and wraps it around the door handle to keep Aziraphale’s hands out of the way, without stopping his nibbles and kisses. Aziraphale laughs nervously and shifts, his shirt-covered chest presented to the demon on top of him. It’s a little awkward in the cramped car, but he doesn’t mind. He could make the bindings disappear, and very well the whole car, in an instant if he wanted, so he’s not truly nervous. And anyway, _clothes_ can be just as restricting as a secure wrist-tie. 

Crowley’s hand has made it past Aziraphale’s button and into his pants, and he wraps one cool, demonic hand onto the angel’s stiff, warm member. Aziraphale cries out and bucks underneath him, his hands twisting above his head. 

“Oh, Crowley, _p-please_ , I—”

“You _what_ , angel?” Crowley rumbles, smirking up at him, one forked tongue slipping out before he can stop it as he gets Aziraphale out of the fabric into the air. Aziraphale shivers, and sighs when cool gel suddenly slicks Crowley’s fingers to ease his ministrations. 

“Oh, I—” He bites his lip and whines, sobbing lightly as Crowley works him. “I… I… _oh, please_ … don’t…”

Crowley grins and leans down right over him, not stopping his hand. He gets in real close to the angel’s face and purrs, nuzzling in close and kissing him. Aziraphale shivers. 

“ _Ah, ah, ah…_.”

“Don’t… _what_ , angel?” he asks with a smirk, licking a wet stripe up Aziraphale’s face. He can taste stardust, and hints of paper particles. 

Aziraphale cries out softly and pulses in Crowley’s hand. “Don’t uh—um— _don’t stop,”_ he cries, and Crowley chuckles darkly, his sharp demon teeth right next to Aziraphale’s temple. He kisses the angel in appreciation and continues, working his hand just the way Aziraphale will never admit he likes but comes absolutely undone under when it’s used on him. _‘Unfair’_ Aziraphale called it once. Now he just calls Crowley’s _name._

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Crowley whispers, tongue flicking. “My gorgeous _angel._ Imagine if Heaven could see you now…” He chuckles and Aziraphale yelps in surprise. 

“Oh… lord… I don’t think they would… like it much.” He giggles softly around a moan and Crowley grins, licking and nibbling on his ear. 

“My sweet, _sweet_ , angel. Come on… Come for me as humans do, in the base, carnal way they do… Please, come for me. My darling, _sparkling_ seraph—”

Aziraphale comes with a cry, sobbing as pale slick coats Crowley’s fingers. He gasps and goes boneless on the seat, and Crowley grins wide and laughs softly, pressing delighted kisses to his angel’s cheek and mouth. “Oh, angel,” he praises roughly, humming and kissing Aziraphale hard as he milks him. There are tears at Aziraphale’s tired eyes and he shudders, kissing back sweetly, feeling blissfully worn out.

“I love you,” Aziraphale says in a voice as delicate as lavender on the breeze, and Crowley’s whole body shivers. He hums and nuzzles under Aziraphale’s jaw. 

“Mmm, I love you too, angel,” he says, his words just a little muffled, his face red with embarrassment. 

Aziraphale smiles and sighs, and they just breathe together for a few moments, enjoying the pleasant, warm afterglow, before Crowley’s hand comes back up, still covered in release. Aziraphale’s eyes go wide. “ _Crowley—_ ”

Crowley smiles against his neck. “Please, angel?” he asks with just a hint of pleading, bringing his fingers closer. Aziraphale groans and turns his face away. 

“It’s not—”

“Not _what_?” Crowley asks, his lips twisted up into a devilish smirk. “Proper? Come on, Zira. What we just did? This is _nothing.”_

Aziraphale squirms and groans, shaking his head. “It’s—It’s— _sacrosanct.”_

Crowley muffles a laugh and hums, his wet fingers hovering above Aziraphale’s mouth. “It’s not. If anything, this _is_ holy. C’mon. Please. For me.” He looks into Aziraphale’s blue-grey eyes and smiles, nuzzling him again. Aziraphale whines but nods. 

“Okay. But I get to cuddle you however much I want for the rest of the _week_!” he says, and Crowley groans and rolls his eyes, about to take it back and just make it all disappear, but finally nods. 

“Okay, angel. Alright. Fine. Now will you…”

Aziraphale giggles and opens his mouth, tongue pink and sweet as Crowley dips his fingers in. Aziraphale’s lips close over his fingers and he licks his own release off without too much trouble. His eyes scrunch up and he makes a small noise of distaste, but he cleans Crowley’s hand admirably and then Crowley grins and kisses him again. Aziraphale swallows, shuddering, but hums at the kisses. 

“Thank you, angel,” Crowley says, kissing him on the lips once more before tucking him back into his trousers and untying the scarf with a wave of his hand. 

Aziraphale moans and takes his hands back, rubbing them. Crowley kisses his cheek before shifting off him, pulling him back up. Aziraphale sighs and straightens his clothes as Crowley starts the car again. “Well, that was…”

Crowley hums and sniffs as he pulls out onto the road. Aziraphale shivers and shifts over to him, cuddling up again and putting his head on the demon’s shoulder, nearly purring again. 

“Oh no, Azira _phale…_ ” Crowley whines, putting up a token protest. Aziraphale just giggles. 

“You promised,” he says, and presses a kiss to the demon’s cheek. 

“Uh-huh,” Crowley says, but Aziraphale can see that his cheeks are still red and he even forgot to put his sunglasses back on. 

“Thank you, Crowley,” he says, looking at his eyes. 

Crowley grumbles, But one hand goes to Aziraphale’s thigh again, his thumb rubbing softly. Aziraphale shivers and sighs, settling down against the demon. He feels pleasant and buzzed and relaxed. 

As they drive, he lets his mind wander, but a little while later he has the sudden thought that maybe, Crowley didn’t mean that if they were separated, life would just be difficult for him, but that he couldn’t live… without Aziraphale _at all_.

Aziraphale shivers, and squeezes Crowley’s arm tighter. 

“Alright?” Crowley asks distractedly, and Aziraphale nods. 

“Yes. Yes, perfectly alright,” he says with a smile, but he wonders. And worries, as he holds Crowley’s earthly form in his arms. But he knows that worrying will only get an angel so far, so he tries to push the distressing thought from his head and settle down again. 

He entertains himself with thoughts of just how much cuddling Crowley could possibly bear without turning into a raging python and biting his head off. Aziraphale huffs a soft laugh at the image, drawing Crowley’s eye for a second, his lips pulled up just slightly, and the ‘what-ifs’ for the moment are forgotten for both of them. 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [milarca](http://milarca.tumblr.com/), and my good omens sideblog [angels-in-the-bentley](http://angels-in-the-bentley.tumblr.com/) ♡


End file.
